Those Who Wank Together
by Tale Kayler
Summary: After a stimulating conversation back at Gryffindor common room, Harry escapes to the Room of Requirement. However, the room is already in use by one Draco Malfoy. Their encounter? Bliss.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Those Who Wank Together  
**Warnings: **Wanking, Voyeurism/ Exhibitionism (if you squint), Sexual content  
**Rating: **NC-17 to make it safe  
**Summary:** After a stimulating conversation back at Gryffindor common room, Harry escapes to the Room of Requirement. However, the room is already in use by one Draco Malfoy. Their encounter? Bliss.

Thank you so much to both The. Dragonfly. Lover and NaughtypastryChef for the quick beta!  
~TK

**Disclaimer:** The characters I don't own, but that doesn't stop me from manipulating them and putting them into these kind of situations, now does it? And no, I don't make any money off of this- but if you're willing to slip me a penny, I won't tell!

'_I need someplace to wank, I need someplace to wank…'_ Harry thought furiously as he paced stiffly in front of the Room of Requirement. He was walking so stiffly due to the hardness in his pants that was making this simple task difficult. However, it was not as difficult as hiding a sudden erection in the middle of the Gryffindor common room in response to an unexpected topic. Nor was it as difficult as sneaking out of said common room under Hermione's watchful and calculating gaze.

All Harry could think was 'thank Merlin for Invisibility Cloaks.'

Harry bit back a groan as a plain wooden door appeared before him and rushed forward, wrenching it open as he fell into the dark room.

Slamming the door shut, he lent back against it, letting the Cloak slip sensuously through his fingers to pool at his feet. Hurriedly, he tugged his trousers open and only managed to get them halfway down his thighs before he succumbed to grabbing his hard-on. His head fell back against the door with a muffled thump, eyes sliding closed. A low hiss slipped through clenched teeth as his fingers closed around his shaft.

He had only managed one stroke before the room was illuminated.

His eyes snapped open and he cried out in shock. No one was in here! How would he have been able to get in otherwise?

But regardless, there, in the middle of the room, sitting completely naked on a large four-poster bed, was Draco Malfoy.

Harry swallowed convulsively, attempting to hide his persistent arousal. The conversation that took place in the common room returned to him, not helping his condition at all. He pressed back firmly against the door as Malfoy's gaze slid over him. Harry's stomach twisted into a knot when he saw the slow smirk spreading over the Slytherin's face.

Thankfully, it was swiftly replaced with irritation- though Harry wasn't sure if that was better or worse.

"May I ask what you are doing here, Potter? Not hoping for a private peep show, are you?"

Harry stammered. "N-no- I-"

Malfoy sneered. "No, I suppose you Gryffindors are much too honest for that. Still…" Harry felt his face flush as he felt Malfoy's eyes rake over his form, spending far too much time on his barely concealed erection. Clearly, the situation he currently found himself in would be enough to lessen the arousal, discussions be damned. But there was something about the way Malfoy looked at him-

Harry trampled that thought before it got too far out of hand.

Malfoy leant back against the headboard, surveying Harry through half lidded eyes. His legs parted ever so slightly, and Harry fought to keep his eyes locked on Malfoy's face. "I think it's safe to assume that you came here to wank, yes?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "What I do in my spare time is hardly any of your concern, _Malfoy_." He was proud of himself for being able to add such a derisive sneer to the name in his condition. He mentally patted himself on the back.

Malfoy's brows shot up. "Oh, I think it is, Potter. You see, you're infringing on my reserved wank time, barging in here like that."

"Oh, I'm _so_ sorry. I'll just go then." Harry's throat tightened and he attempted to stuff himself back into his pants. Malfoy, seeing his problems, huffed.

"Well, now, there's really no need for that."

Harry paused, not meeting Malfoy's eye as he stared at the end of the bed. "No need for what?" His voice trembled slightly.

"Well, you're obviously going to have quite the difficulty hiding your… state, per say," Harry could detect the smirk, and his grip tightened on the edge of his trousers, still half in the act of pulling them back up. "Which will cause you to need an empty classroom to release; and I happen to have it on good authority that Snape is patrolling these halls as we speak. I don't think you want him walking in on anything like _that_." Harry shivered, slightly revolted. No, the idea of Snape walking in on him in a compromised state was too much to bear.

"And therefore, you suggestion would be?" Harry told himself he imagined the slight hitch of breath from across the room.

"You may as well just stay here."

Harry frowned and met the grey eyes that stared at him unblinkingly. "Why should I?"

Malfoy's answer was a bit too quick. "To avoid any unwanted encounters, of course," he said, reminded him of the possible encounter that was bound to happen if Harry left.

"And then what do you suppose would happen, the two of us here?" Harry was a tad bit breathless. His heart slammed in his throat, making it difficult to swallow.

Malfoy shrugged, a casual rise and fall of his shoulder. "A mutual wank of a sort, I suppose."

Harry's mind reeled. _A mutual wank with Draco Malfoy in the Room of Requirement_. After seven years of animosity, this was the most unlikely occurrence he could imagine. The conversation from the common room buzzed in his ears, making the shroud of surrealism dissipate slightly.

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Malfoy was sure to use this against him somehow. His cock strummed in his hand, not liking being ignored for so long. Voyeurism had never been Harry's cup of tea, but living in a small room with four other boys had given him a general idea of what it would be like. Watching Malfoy jerk off in front of him should have made Harry's decision clear. But the idea was almost… painfully arousing.

The battle between the dwindling logic of his brain and the ache of release his erection was pressing on him was lost as Harry's eyes skimmed unbidden over Malfoy's body. He lay relaxing against the pillows, his pale skin glinting in the light of a single candle on the table beside the bed. A light layer of sweat covered his body from his earlier activities, his cock jutting out from between slightly spread legs.

Harry swallowed. "All right then," he found himself whispering, barely audible.

Malfoy seemed to relax at this, and he began to leisurely stroke himself, running his hand up and down his shaft, twisting his wrist slightly near the head. Harry's eyes were fixed on this sight as the death grip he had on his pants loosened. He hesitated briefly before following Malfoy's lead, biting back a groan as he tightened his grip.

He leaned back further into the solidity of the door, his eyes sliding closed as his movements increased. He struggled to open them slightly, making sure that Malfoy continued too. He didn't want to be taken by surprise if he chose to attack.

He fought to keep his pace slow, but that became increasingly difficult when Malfoy trailed damp fingers over his body. Deft fingers rolled his balls before sliding behind them to his entrance. He moaned loudly, causing Harry to suck in a sharp breath. Clearly, Malfoy was holding nothing back.

Harry's grip tightened and his pace increased as Malfoy shifted on the bed, pulling his knees closer to his chest and exposing himself. Harry had an unobstructed view as his fingers began pressing in and out. The sound of Malfoy's panting rang through the room.

Malfoy was clearly putting on a show, and Harry found himself admitting that he deserved top marks.

Harry's eyes traveled over the body before him as he continued to thrust into his hand, smearing the precome gathered at the tip. He was taken aback to see that Malfoy's gaze was fixed unwaveringly on him. He could see the burning desire there, and his breath hitched.

The eye contact was apparently too much for Malfoy. His head flopped back against the headboard and he whimpered. He thrust upwards sharply, impaling himself further on his fingers and cried out sharply. Through the haze that surrounded Harry, he was shocked when he was able to distinguish his name in the rumble of orgasmic bliss thundering through the blond.

Malfoy gasping out his name as he came overloaded Harry's senses, and he came with a sharp cry over his hand.

The tingling of a cleaning charm forced Harry to open his eyes in time to see Malfoy slid off the bed and begin a slow gait towards him. Hurriedly, he stuffed himself back in his trousers, his face flaming.

Malfoy stopped right in front of him, standing nose to nose. Harry couldn't help but notice Malfoy in his still completely nude state. He lent closer, supporting his weight on the door behind Harry with one hand.

"Potter," he said in whisper, his breath ghosting over Harry's slightly parted lips. Harry found himself unable to breath, so focused was he on the grey eyes. His eyes tracked the movement as a pink tongue appeared to trace the line of Malfoy's lips. "Thank you," he continued, and he opened the door.

Harry tumbled backwards out of the room, landing painfully on his arse. When he looked up, the door to the Room of Requirement had melded back into smooth stone.

~TBC


	2. Chapter 2

_See chapter one for disclaimer, warnings and whatnot_

Yup, I've got more, and a third part hopefully coming soon too! The first chapter was much to short and terribly unsatisfying... it was just the beginning.

Thank you's go out to NaughtypastryChef and The. Dragonfly. Lover for beta!  
~TK

Over the next two weeks, Harry studiously avoided any contact with Malfoy.

He secluded himself in the library, finding the darkest table that was the furthest from the others. The choice of seating intensified Hermione's displeasure and she moaned about the quality of the lighting. This just made it all the better for Ron; he could use this as an excuse for his homework being improperly done.

He sat as far away from Malfoy in any of their shared classes, though this really wasn't much of a change. Classes were at least able to distract him-but only just. Hallways were a different matter. Harry found himself taking different routes so as to not run into the blond.

At meal times, he sat with his back to the rest of the Hall, despite how uneasy it made him feel. He told himself that he only imagined being watched. Luckily though, the Hall was always filled with students and teachers during dinner and lunch. Breakfast however, was the trickiest. Harry had tried to eat later, running the risk of being late for class. However, nine times out of ten, Malfoy arrived just after or right as Harry reached the Hall.

Harry did not fancy himself as a morning person, but he found that waking up early was the only way out. This did come with some advantages though; it gave him more time for any abandoned homework and extra study. At least, that's what he told Hermione. In actuality, he often found himself wandering down to the pitch with his broom, running a few laps before releasing a practice Snitch.

Friday morning had him squinting in the morning sunlight as he flew through the hoops of the pitch, looking for any signs of the Snitch. Spotting it hovering in the middle near the grass, he dove, instinct driving him on. His toes dragged over the ground as he reached for the glittering ball, snatching it before it could escape.

Overbalancing, he rolled, clutching his broom to his chest as he impacted with the unyielding ground. His shoulder hit first, Quidditch armor digging into his bicep painfully and his glasses flew off.

Harry sat up, gasping for breath and shook his head in an attempt to clear it. The adrenaline he felt as he plummeted strummed through his nerves, and he cast about hurriedly for his glasses, sliding them back on when they were found.

He swore when he checked the time. There were five short minutes left to change and replace the Snitch and make it back to the castle for Potions. Snape would probably give him detention.

Stumbling to his feet, he dashed to the Quidditch shack to return the Snitch before changing back into his school robes. Once his hand made contact with the doorknob though, he found himself five feet away on his back, the breath knocked out of him.

He sat up with a slight groan of pain. What had just happened?

Any attempt to open the door resulted in the same effect. He tried unsuccessfully five times before calling it a lost cause and drawing his wand. His back burned where the armor had dug into it, and he was sure that there would be a permanent rash.

It took a few tries to take the curse off, and the door was very unhappy about that, more so than it was when it was touched. More than once Harry found himself struggling to get to his feet no less than twenty feet from the door.

Eventually though, Harry managed to bring the curse down and placed the Snitch in the chest with the rest of the balls before dashing back to the changing rooms. His armor was stained green from the continuous sliding on the grass, and looked more than a little worn. Harry, hot and sweaty, threw on his robes as he bemoaned the loss of a shower. He didn't want to push it with Snape.

He was out of breath as he drew level with the door, and paused just long enough to regain some semblance of control over his breathing. "Mr Potter. Thank you for deciding to come to class today." Snape sneered as Harry slid through the door. "Thirty points for tardiness. Go sit down."

Harry mumbled something that sounded vaguely like an apology before making his way towards the back of the room and his place beside Hermione. Snape's voice stopped him before he could take a second step.

"Yes, Professor?" He turned back to face Snape. He frowned when the class gasped. He hadn't said anything remotely insulting to Snape.

"May I ask what happened, Mr Potter?" Snape was looking at him oddly, his eyebrow in a kind of half quirk. Harry's frown deepened.

"I don't know what you mean, sir."

Snape eyed him before he responded. "Your back, Potter. Your robes are covered in blood."

Harry blinked at him. "Blood?" Now that it was brought to his attention, his back was smarting.

Snape glared at him as if Harry's question doubted his intelligence. "Granger, take Potter to the Hospital Wing and return here immediately. Doubtless you'll be able to do any work this class Potter, with the condition you're currently in." Harry stared at him, wondering what had happened to Snape to let Harry out of class. What was the catch? Hermione appeared at his elbow, gently tugging him towards the door.

Snape's voice followed them out the classroom. "And you'll be returning here at eight o'clock tonight to complete the assigned potion, Potter. Don't forget." There it was.

"What happened?" Hermione asked when the door had snapped shut. Her eyes were wide in concern and she kept her hand firmly on his elbow as if he were about to collapse. "Was it Malfoy?"

Harry frowned, thinking back. No, Harry had not seen Malfoy, he was sure of that. But the door… he could have cursed the door. "The door to the Quidditch shack was cursed." He explained about the door and the unforgiving quality of Quidditch armor.

"Do you think Malfoy cursed it?"

"Dunno," Harry shrugged, and winced at the pain that shot through his back. How could he not have noticed? "I suppose it's possible. What's with all the questions about Malfoy?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "He arrived a little later to class than usual. Thought it was a bit suspicious, that's all."

Harry smirked at her. "Memorizing his schedule, Hermione?"

Her cheeks darkened and she sputtered. "Of course not! Why on earth would I want to? But if he did do this to you…" she trailed off darkly, muttering under her breath. Harry grinned.

"Even if he did curse the door, I wouldn't know. I've been trying to avoid him lately."

"Why?" Hermione asked, quirking her brow at him as they ascended the marble staircase.

Harry flushed. "Well, after that… rather informative conversation on Malfoy's sexuality –not to mention the fact that there was a very descriptive lesson on what goes on with two men following that- I find it rather difficult to have any contact with him." But that was only half of it. He had been flooded with mental images at the time, mostly of Malfoy doing obscene acts which inevitably lead to the following disaster. Harry had no intention of telling anyone about what had happened after he had left.

Hermione frowned. "You did leave quite abruptly. I didn't think that you'd have that kind of reaction. But hold on…" Hermione looked at him quizzically, and Harry felt a sense of dread. "Ron said you weren't in you room when he went to bed shortly afterwards. Where did you go?"

"Late night fly," he muttered. Hermione pursed her lips, but said nothing more on the subject.

Madam Pomfrey was angry with him when he arrived. "You should have come straight to me! With all that walking around, you have probably made it worse!"

"I didn't realize what had happened!" Harry fruitlessly tried to defend himself. Pomfrey tutted and pushed him face down into the nearest bed. The top portions of his blood soaked clothes were vanished off so she could examine the damage.

"Quidditch," she muttered darkly, "is ten per cent fun and ninety per cent pain." She grabbed a nearby container and rubbed a cooling salve over the torn skin of his back. Harry hissed at the contact; healing salve or not, it felt as though it was burning though his skin as it began the slow process of kitting his back together.

"It had nothing to do with Quidditch," Harry defended. He conveniently left anything out about the armor. It was there to protect the player, anyways.

Pomfrey fussed above him, still muttering under her breath and Harry chose to ignore her. He glanced up at Hermione who was hovering beside the bed. "Shouldn't you return to class, Hermione?"

"Ron will want to know how you're doing. Besides," she said with a smile. "Snape can't complain or anything; I've already finished the potion, so there's really nothing for me to do."

"Other than help Ron of course."

Hermione chuckled. "That too, I guess."

Pomfrey slapped a square of gauze that covered the entirety of his back with a bit more force than was necessary, Harry thought with a grimace. "Now you need to _rest_, Potter," She told him sharply.

"Do I have to stay here? Or can I go back to my dorm?" Harry asked as he raised himself onto his elbows to look at her beseechingly.

Her lips pursed and Harry was sure that she would say no before she sighed. "I suppose it's not entirely necessary. I trust you're sick of being in the Hospital Wing. Goodness knows it's not normal for one person to land themselves in here as often as you do."

Harry grinned. "Thanks, Madam Pomfrey." He sat up gingerly, tugging on the clean shirt that had appeared next to his beside, and decided to forego the fresh robes.

Hermione parted ways with him as she headed back down to the dungeons and Harry headed for the seventh floor. He decided that he didn't particularly feel like sleeping in his dormitory, and changed course for the Room of Requirement.

He opened the door to find a large and doubtlessly comfortable four poster bed against one wall, and a couple of chairs surrounding a merrily crackling fireplace.

Harry pulled off his trousers and gingerly slipped out of the shirt, collapsing onto the bed before him with a groan. The early mornings caught up with him, and he was asleep within seconds.

*~O~*~O~*

Harry awoke comfortable and pleasantly warm. He moaned, burying his head into the pillow and attempting to sink further into the mattress by wriggling his hips. He froze at the noise in his ear. That- No, surely, Harry imagined that hitch of breath.

But how to explain that tingle on his skin?

Where was all the heat coming from if he was lying _on top_ of the blankets?

And where the hell did his pants go?

Panicking slightly, Harry attempted to sit up. A pressure on his shoulder prevented this action, and breath was coming in great gusts of air now.

"Didn't Pomfrey tell you to relax?" Harry forced himself to calm down when he heard the voice, his heartbeat erratic.

"What the hell are you doing, Malfoy?"

Malfoy nuzzled into Harry's neck and inhaled. "Helping you out; you looked dreadful in Potions, so I came to check on you."

"How is this helping me exactly? And how do you know that's what Pomfrey said?" Harry renewed his efforts to escape from underneath Malfoy. The realization that Malfoy was naked as well when he placed his full weight on Harry to prevent him from escaping almost drowned out Malfoy's response.

"It's Pomfrey, Potter. If she wasn't keeping you in the Hospital Wing, than her instructions to you would have been to 'be careful and take it easy.' That's just common sense for most people."

"Again, how is this helping me to relax? We're both naked!"

"Hmm, yes, we are, aren't we?" Malfoy muttered as he licked a slow line from Harry's neck to his ear. Harry froze.

"Malfoy…" he whispered in a strangled voice.

"You've been avoiding me, Potter." Malfoy whispered in his ear. "Malfoy's don't like being ignored. Especially me. And certainly not by you."

"Is that why you cursed the door?" Harry asked, trying to ignore the nibbling on his earlobe.

"What cursed door?" There was genuine confusion in his voice, despite it being slightly muffled. Harry refused to buy into it.

"The door to the Quidditch shack, of course. Hermione said you were later for class than usual."

Malfoy paused in his ministrations to Harry's ear. "It's true that I was late for class, and I was at the pitch at the time. But I didn't curse any doors. I was only there to watch you fly."

Harry pulled as far away from Malfoy as he could and turned his head to look at him. Grey eyes were disturbingly close to his own and Harry could make out small flecks of blue in the iron. "What?"

Malfoy just looked at him. "As I said, you were avoiding me. I planned to confront you after you had finished, but each time I went down to talk you were otherwise engaged, and I didn't want to disturb you. You're quite a sight on a broomstick, Potter." He grinned demurely.

Harry gaped at him. "You've been watching me?" The notion that he was being watched was inconceivable, and by Malfoy no less. How had he not known? True, he was a bit dim at times, but he should have seen Malfoy at some point. "How long?"

Malfoy shrugged, the movement pulling at the gauze on Harry's back but not causing any painful twinges. Apparently Pomfrey's salve had worked wonders. "Once you stopped coming for breakfast, I wanted to know where you went off every morning. I figured Quidditch was a better shot than the library."

Harry looked at him, shocked speechless. "And what- what did you want to talk to me about?" he asked haltingly. If only he could _move_.

"Why have you been avoiding me, Potter?" Malfoy swiftly sidestepped the question with his own. "Surely what happened here two weeks ago wouldn't have made you take such drastic measures. You've been acting as though you're terrified of me." Malfoy frowned. "I don't like it."

Harry looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "Malfoy, look at our history. There hasn't been a single friendly confrontation in the years we've known each other."

"I'm certain you can think of one exception."

Harry hesitated. His neck was beginning to ache in the awkward position. "True, but that… that was different."

Malfoy broke eye contact as he nuzzled into Harry's shoulder. He ran a hand through the dark locks and began to absently massage his scalp. Harry bit back a moan of pleasure, waiting for Malfoy to respond.

"It was better than any of our other confrontations, you have to admit. And I often find myself wishing for a repeat." He pushed down with his hips slightly, making Harry aware of the desire that filled him as Malfoy's erection pressed into his arse.

Harry was panting. The hardening of his own cock pressed into the mattress that had once seemed so comfortable, but now teased him with its soft half-caresses. "Why though? Why me?"

"You've always been an anomaly." Harry jerked as Malfoy's wandering fingers traced over a ticklish spot on his side. He could feel the grin that seeped across the blonds' face as he began to kiss his way up Harry's neck. "You've fascinated me from the beginning. You have no idea the kind of rumors that circulate around you, Potter, even before school started. It's only gotten more interesting as the years go by." Drawing level with Harry's lips he continued in a barely audible whisper. "I don't want to listen to rumors anymore; I want to hear the truth."

Interlacing their fingers, he skated his lips over Harry's in a demure kiss, gently asking for permission as he increased the pressure. Harry acquiesced with a moan, his lips sliding open and Malfoy slipped his tongue inside, stroking softly as he explored. He nibbled on Harry's lower lip as he drew slowly away to gaze into the bottle-green depths.

Try as Harry might, he could detect no nefarious plots in Malfoy's gaze. Malfoy had had the opportunity to use what he could against Harry, and the fact that he didn't assured Harry that Malfoy was not rotten to the core. In fact, the longer he looked at him, he could feel a stirring in his chest that would not be ignored. Memories from their previous encounter flooded through his mind, and Harry echoed Malfoy's desire for more.

"The truth's easier to get than you think," He panted, "so long as you're willing to ask."

Malfoy's lips curved into a gentle smile. "Hmm, and you'll be willing to clarify a few things for me later?" He chuckled at Harry's nod, his eyes sparkling. "But in the meantime…"

"What are you suggesting we do?" At Malfoy's quirked eyebrow, he continued. "I find I occasionally rather like the suggestions you make." With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he lifted his hips off of the bed, arching backwards into Draco.

Draco gasped at the motion and pressed a quick kiss to Harry's temple. "I think you're the one with the suggestion here, and I quite agree with it." He ground his hips down, sliding his cock further in between Harry's arse cheeks. Harry rocked back into him, feeling his own erection drag across the fabric below him.

Draco shifted back onto his knees, pulling Harry's hips up with him as he went. Harry pressed his face into the pillow that his hands clutched and moaned as a pale arm curled around his midsection to grasp his cock.

Wet, sloppy kisses were placed on his lower back, rising steadily to his neck as Draco encircled Harry's body with his own. The rhythm of his hand on Harry was matched with the motion of his hips as he slid over Harry's entrance, eliciting a long whimper. Harry shuddered with the desire that arched through him, collecting in his groin.

With renewed vigor, he thrust backwards, matching the thrusts as Draco enticingly sliding over his entrance again and again. Smooth hands caressed his cock, smearing the precome that gathered at the tip and tracing the sensitive underside. Harry gasped at the tightening of his balls and a white hot fire shot through his body, beginning at his toes and continuing to the tips of his fingers. "Oh Merlinnngh- Mal-Draco!" He choked, coming spectacularly over Draco's hand as he milked him, drawing out his orgasm.

Draco jerked his hips faster, the tip of his cock probing at Harry, the generous amounts of precome making his movements slicker. Draco latched onto Harry's shoulder as he came, his come dribbling down Harry to collect between his knees on the sheets.

Draco collapsed and rolled to the side, pulling Harry against his chest. His breathing was ragged in Harry's ear, causing shivers to course through them both. The suspicion had long since deserted him, leaving only a feeling of rightness and overbearing comfort.

Shifting in Draco's arms to face him, Harry slid a hand into the gossamer strands of his hair and pulled him into a searing kiss. He pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Draco's mouth as he pulled away, and continued upwards, tracing the pointed features with his lips.

"I'd like to keep you for myself for a while, if you don't mind." Draco gasped, hand gripping Harry's waist.

"Fine by me," Harry responded, snuggling into the embrace. "What time is it?" His eyes slid shut as he hooked a leg over Draco's hip, pulling him closer. "I'm supposed to be at Snape's at eight to complete that stupid potion."

"Eight?" Draco asked softly.

"Yes," Harry looked at him, and seeing the apprehensive expression on Draco's face, sat up slowly. "What's the matter?"

Draco's brow furrowed. "Nothing, except that when I got here, it was quarter to."

Darting for his wand at the end of the bed, Harry cast a quick Tempus charm and groaned when the red glowing numbers appeared before him: 8:17pm.

Snape was so not going to be happy.

~TBC


	3. Chapter 3

_Please refer to chapter one for warnings, disclaimer and such_

Ughh... I'm so sorry about how long it took me to get this out! I hope it makes up for that it length (and possibly content). I wanted to get it out as quickly as possible, so I apologize if it seems a bit rough.  
Also, a very belated thank you to The. Dragonfly. Lover for beating! I'm so sorry I didn't incorporate the changes earlier!  
Anyways, thank you so much to everyone who has read or reviewed this story, it means a lot to me! Anyways, hope you enjoy!  
~TK

Harry no longer felt any need to avoid Draco. In fact, it seemed that every fiber of his being had unknowingly made it possible for him to go out of his way to see Draco.

Draco had never struck Harry as the "lovey-dovey" type, and indeed, it seemed as if Draco felt he had to prove this himself.

Whenever Harry caught his eye, Draco would send him a meaningful look that was so suggestive that Harry flushed and had to look away on order to get his libido under control. The looks followed Harry wherever he went: the library, classes, in the hallways and especially during the meals where actions could also come into play (Harry had no idea that food could be so arousing) and were nearly always followed by a meeting in the Room.

Harry still woke up early out of habit to fly, and more often than not was joined by Draco. They raced each other from one end of the pitch to the other, Harry having the advantage of his Firebolt letting him easily outstrip Draco.

The flights were often rounded up in a race to see who could find the Snitch first. Though they were more equally matched in this area, Draco fought dirty, using his wand in desperate attempts to deter Harry from winning. Eventually, Harry had put his foot down when it came to the wands. He did not want to explain to Pomfrey again how he had managed to break his arm after falling off his broom for no apparent reason (actually, Draco had accidentally stunned him as a last ditch effort and had only realized his folly when Harry was five feet from the ground. As a result, the cushioning charm he had hurriedly cast only partially worked).

Though the Room of Requirement was by far the most logical place to meet, it was not the only one.

After a particularly stressful day, Harry –rather than return back to his common room– followed Draco back to the Slytherin dorms after dinner. He had snuck his Cloak into dinner under his robes for this very reason, easily giving Ron and Hermione the slip. It was easy enough to sneak behind Draco, knowing where he was going back from second year.

The room hadn't changed over the years; the same lamps hung from the ceiling, casting a greenish glow over the long rectangular room. Harry silently trailed Draco to the far left hand side and down a few flights of stairs to his dorm room.

He was barely able to slip through the door as it slid shut behind Draco, and Harry felt the Cloak slide off him a bit as he tripped over his feet in his haste to get through. He recovered quickly, yanking the material to be sure that he was completely hidden. Unfortunately, there was already someone in the room with Draco, and Goyle was looking straight at him with a curious expression on his face.

Draco, thinking the look was directed at him, raised a hand self-consciously to his hair. "What?" he asked. "Is there something wrong with me?"

Goyle turned an alarmed expression on Draco. "N-nothing at all! I just thought…"

"Thought what?" Draco asked curiously, striding over to his bed as he began to toe off his shoes.

Goyle mumbled. "Just though I saw Potter, that's all."

It didn't take Draco long to figure out what had happened. He sneered and quickly assured Goyle that there was "no bloody way that Potter would be stupid enough to attempt to sneak into the Slytherin dorms, don't be an idiot Goyle," before bidding him goodnight and sliding the emerald hangings closed.

After casting strong silencing and privacy wards on the hangings, Draco turned around to find Harry rolling onto his bed in a fit of silent giggles. "Merlin Potter, that wasn't funny. What if you're caught?" his stern tone sobering Harry only slightly.

Sitting up, he wiped tears of mirth from the corner of his eyes and grinned. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time I've snuck into the Slytherin's common room."

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Indeed. You have yet to tell me that particular story." He began to unbutton his shirt, and Harry's eyes tracked the movement of his hands as they moved steadily lower. "Perhaps you'll be willing to share?"

"Sure," Harry breathed.

"I wasn't lying, you know. You'd be very stupid to sneak in here," he whispered as he crawled onto the bed, his shirt hanging open to reveal the pale expanse of his chest. He pushed Harry back against the pillows.

"And why's that?"

Draco's lip curled into a devious smirk. Harry shivered at the intent that saturated the look. "Because once we're in my domain, I can have my wicked way with you." He nibbled on an earlobe.

Harry's breathing quickened under Draco's ministrations. He grabbed his biceps and turned his head, meeting Draco's lips with his own in a kiss.

The dance of their tongues was ended when Draco pulled back and said, "I'm still waiting to hear this story."

Harry whined. "Now?" Draco leveled a look at him that quelled all argument, causing Harry to huff. "Fine. It was in second year," he began and Draco bent to kiss Harry's collarbone. Harry transferred his grip to Draco's hips, fingering the edge of his trousers as Draco began to unbutton his shirt. "Ron, Hermione and I suspected that you were the one attacking Muggleborns, so we came up with a way to interrogate you." Harry sucked in a sharp breath as Draco followed the line his fingers had made while opening Harry's shirt with his tongue. He licked a slow circuit around his navel before he returned to the dusky nipples.

Draco chuckled darkly. "Flattering: me as Slytherin's heir. Whose bright idea was that?"

"Ron's," Harry moaned, his hips rising to meet Draco's. "You didn't exactly try to prove our suspicions wrong; what with shouting 'you'll be next, Mudbloods' and all."

A slow smile crept onto Draco's face. "True, but at the time everyone was busy thinking it was you anyways. Go on," he urged and began to suckle Harry's nipple.

"We used Polyjuice Potion," he was able to gasp out as he arched upwards. "Hermione made it."

The clasp of his trousers was popped open by a deft flick of Draco's fingers. He nipped Harry's hip as he slowly tugged the material down. "And?"

Harry's hands were tangled in blond hair. "Drugged Crabbe and Goyle with Sleeping Draughts," he choked, attempting to tug Draco towards his aching cock. Obligingly, Draco mouthed Harry's erection through the material of his pants.

"Continue."

"Oh, yes please!" Harry begged, bucking his hips.

Draco hummed with laughter, the vibrations sending sparks of sensation through Harry's body. "The story," he reminded Harry.

It was hard to concentrate on such mundane things such as stories at a time like this. Why the hell was Draco still wearing his trousers? His hands flew to undo the zipper, but Draco stopped him by snapping the waistband of his pants.

"Harry," he warned, steel eyes determined to hear the end. Harry whimpered.

With supreme effort, he organized his thoughts. "We stole their shoes and locked them in a broom closet. Ron and I turned into Crabbe and Goyle and headed to the dungeons to find you." He lifted his hips to assist Draco in the removal of his pants.

"And Granger? Who did she turn into?"

"A cat," Harry panted. Draco looked up after he had slid the pants off as well and let out a bark of laughter.

"A cat? She did realize of course that Polyjuice is only meant for human transformations, didn't she?"

"It was an accident," Harry protested. "She stole a hair off of Millicent Bulstrode's robes and didn't know that it was cat hair until it was too late."

"Ah," Draco murmured and then proceeded to lick Harry from base to tip. He flicked his tongue over the slit at the head, cleaning it of the gathered precome.

While Harry still had semi-coherent thought, he finished in a rush. "Anyways, found you n' you showed us the article 'bout Ron's dad before the hour was up. Ah- Merlin Draco!" Harry cried out as Draco slowly began to take him into his mouth. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked, eliciting another ragged cry from Harry.

Draco stroked the sensitive underside with his tongue, drawing back slightly to swirl it around the tip once more before pulling away. Gasping, Harry lifted his hips in an attempt to get Draco to continue his ministrations, tugging gently on the blond hair between his fingers and dragging it to where it needed to go.

Draco sighed, a stream of air that caressed Harry's erection, making him shiver uncontrollably. His hands moved to hold Harry's hips down as he began to lick circles around his cock. Reaching the base, he moved behind it to mouth Harry's balls, sucking them gently into his mouth and rolled them with his tongue.

"Oh, _h__nnngh,_" Harry moaned. He pulled Draco upwards, capturing his lips and tracing the lower lip with his tongue before sliding into his mouth. His hands were tangled in blond silk, drawing Draco closer to deepen the kiss and Draco responded in kind. "Draco," he panted, breaking away, "fuck me."

Draco examined Harry's eyes, and whatever he found there was all the permission he needed. His hand darted off to the side to fumble in the bedside cabinet, his body pushing against Harry's. Harry undid Draco's trousers in record time, pulling them down as far as he could. Draco straightened, clasping a small bottle of oil and kicked the unwanted garments aside.

Slowly, Draco upended the bottle over his hand, eyes locked with Harry's as the oil spilled onto his fingers and they were wrapped in a light citrus scent. Harry licked his lips nervously. Gently, Draco nudged his legs open further and settled between them with an air of grace.

Draco traced the puckered flesh of the opening with one oil-slicked finger and Harry jerked, gasping at the sensation. His hands fisted in the bed sheets and he fought to keep still as that finger slowly began to nudge its way inside.

"You'll have to relax," Draco said sternly. Harry nodded, gasping. He waited for the flare to die down slightly, still marveling at the sensation of having a finger up his arse. It felt… surprisingly good. Especially when Draco began to move it slowly back and forth and it wasn't long before Harry was attempting to meet his movements.

The addition of a second finger had Harry biting back a hiss. His head flopped back onto the pillows and he groaned when Draco's free hand rose to stroke his erection. He thrust downwards on Draco's fingers as they began to scissor and then rocked upward into the slightly teasing caresses on his cock.

The sudden removal of fingers had Harry opening eyes he didn't know he had closed to see Draco pouring the remaining oil on his cock. Harry's mouth ran dry at the sight. Grasping his shins, Draco pushed Harry's legs up further to his chest as he adjusted his position to align himself with Harry's loosened hole.

Gradually, he pushed inside, allowing Harry the time to adjust to his size. Harry forgot to breathe as Draco slid forwards, sucking in air when he was fully seated. Draco released his legs, placing his hands on either side of Harry's head and lent forwards. Harry wrapped his legs around the pale waist, drawing him closer and rocking slightly as he did so.

"Merlin, Potter-" Draco gasped as a light sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead, making his hair stick to it. "You're terrifically tight." Harry had nothing to say. He lay gasping as his inner muscles clenched convulsively around Draco's length, making his groan and whimper. "Ready?" he asked and Harry nodded, biting down on his lower lip.

With Harry's legs around his waist, Draco couldn't pull back very far but the small movements brought their own kind of pleasure. They rocked more than thrust, grinding together in a sensuous rhythm. Harry trailed the tips of his fingers down Draco's side, brushing them against his own thighs that were still secured around the pale waist before moving them up to caress creamy shoulder blades. The strokes made Draco quiver, and he lowered his head to mouth at the juncture of Harry's neck when they dug into his shoulders.

Harry gave a particularly loud groan when the tip of Draco's cock dragged across something that sent a thrill of pleasure through him. He tightened his grip in an effort to bring Draco back to that spot and rocked upwards faster, pulling Draco down on top of him by the shoulders.

"You're… gonna have to," Draco panted as he thrust as hard as he could with the amount of room he had. It took Harry a moment to understand, lost as he was in the pleasure building in his groin. He wormed a hand in between their bodies to stroke himself, sensing that Draco was close to coming himself.

Above him, Draco trembled and gasped. His hands curled in the bedclothes as the force of his rocking brought him closer and closer. He cried out Harry's name as he climaxed, throwing his head back and making the line of his throat stand out. Drooping forwards, the rest of his whimpers stifled against the side of Harry's neck.

Harry groaned, his back arching and evoking another moan from Draco as his inner muscles tightened in his orgasm. Draco purred into Harry's neck as he continued to shudder.

"All right?" Draco asked, warm breath ghosting over Harry's ear. Harry nodded as he continued to gasp for breath. Draco slid out with a groan and collapsed onto the bed, his arm draped across Harry's heaving chest.

"What made you follow me back here?" Draco asked.

"Dunno," Harry replied, shrugging his shoulders against the bed. "Just got bored of the Room?" Draco snorted.

They lay in silence for a while, listening to each other breathing as they calmed down and their heartbeats gradually slowed. Draco drew circles with his forefinger on Harry's chest absently, and the soothing designs lulled Harry into a soft doze.

"You should probably go soon, before anyone notices you missing," Draco murmured softly. Harry grunted, to sleepy to respond or even care.

But there was a persistent shuffling outside of the curtains that intruded into his relaxed state, a rustling of parchment that grated on his nerves. When the noise stopped, he relaxed further into the bed. The footsteps were the only warning they got.

"Draco?" Goyle asked and he pulled the curtains back.

Draco shouted, pushing Harry over the side of the bed and yanking the covers up to conceal himself. Harry hit the floor with a muffled thud and rolled under the bed as fast as he could, taking what clothes he could reach with him.

"What the _fuck_, Goyle?" Draco yelled, outraged.

Goyle stood there, blinking in a bemused sort of way. Harry stuffed a fist in his mouth to stifle his breathing and hoped that Goyle hadn't seen anything unusual. He shuffled his feet in his boat-like shoes and cleared his throat. "Just wanted to know if you've seen my Transfiguration essay," he grumbled.

Draco, in an effort to calm himself, laughed a little hysterically. "Have you even started writing it?"

Goyle frowned as he thought. "Uh… no, I don't think so," he turned to leave, his hand about to slide the curtains shut before he halted and looked inquiringly at Draco. "Er…"

"What?" Draco snapped. "If you can't tell, you're interrupting private 'me' time!" Goyle bumbled a bit and closed the curtains quickly with a muttered 'good night'.

Harry waited a bit before he crawled out from under the bed. He looked at Draco, who was flushed and mouthed, "I'll go now."

*~O~*~O~*

The next day Harry was unnerved to notice that Goyle was shooting him odd looks from the Slytherin table during lunch. He hunched over his plate in an effort to become as small as possible, with little to no effect, and felt himself dreading the looming Potions class.

Harry chose the seat the furthest away from the table where Draco sat with Crabbe and Goyle, attempting to focus on his potion. It couldn't be helped that he still saw the odd glance Goyle sent his way over his shoulder, a small frown creasing his forehead and making him look as if he the fumes from his potion were slowly poisoning him.

Ron leaned over to him while his own cauldron hissed and spit with a vengeance and whispered to Harry, "I don't like the way Goyle keeps throwing you those looks. I'd be careful if I were you, mate."

Harry nodded distractedly. Ron's frowned deepened.

"Seriously, Harry. Hermione and I were thinking," he looked briefly at Hermione, who was too devoted to her potion that the conversation beside her went unnoticed before he continued, "maybe you shouldn't go out for those morning Quidditch practices. What if the two goons caught you off guard?"

Harry told himself there was no way that that was about to happen. For one, Draco would be there to deter them (or at least to ensure there was no permanent damage), and two, what reason did they have for coming after him?

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it Ron. If he wanted something, he would have made a move already."

Ron wasn't convinced. "Still…" he trailed off, glaring at Goyle as if that alone could deflect any possible future attacks. He nudged Hermione for support when her potion had turned the periwinkle blue called for in the instructions. "What do you think, Hermione?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "Well, I can't deny that the Slytherin's are giving you odd looks, but that's just normal behaviour, isn't it?" She eyed Harry warily as she continued. "And things seemed to have calmed down a little between you and Malfoy. For instance, I noticed that you're no longer taking out of the way routes to get to class. But still, Ron has a good point, Harry."

Ron looked triumphantly at him, a 'told-you-so' expression on his face. "Oh, drop it," Harry muttered.

Ron's cauldron gave off a particularly loud belch, and he had to back away to escape from the globes that were spitting forth. A stray drop landed on the sleeve of his robes and caused the black to bleed away into a bright pink, gradually spreading to encompass the right side up to his elbow. Ron gave a grimace of disgust and waved his arm around in a futile attempt to shake the colour off. "Ugh," he groaned, "it's like Lockheart's Valentine's day all over again."

Harry bit his lip to stave off his laughter as Snape descended upon their station to tell Ron off.

*~O~*~O~*

Harry woke up earlier than usual next morning. Ron had expressed his wishes to accompany him down to the pitch for unnecessary protection last night in the common room. As much as he enjoyed flying with Ron, the flights with Draco were enjoyable in their own way, if not slightly more dangerous.

The early morning air was slightly chilly, and the fog muffled the morning songs of the birds. Cool dew coated his shoes as Harry walked across the pitch with his broom in one hand and a loose hold on a comatose Snitch in the other. He inhaled deeply, the crisp air rejuvenating him before he swung a leg over his broom and shot off into the lightening sky. A few loops were all it took to ward off the early November chill and Harry flew in rising circles around the pitch while he waited for Draco to arrive.

Harry pulled out of a shallow dive and rocketed upwards, weaving in between the towered stands. A glint of platinum drew his attention to Draco, sitting on the uppermost bleacher with his broom resting beside him. He looked perfectly at ease, examining Harry's flying with a critical eye.

Mischievously, Harry withdrew the Snitch and muttered the spell to activate it before he hurtled it towards Draco. Its wings snapped out midway on its path towards the blond and it circled him once before darting off. Draco scowled and yelled, "What, couldn't let me warm up first, Potter?"

"You should have come earlier, Malfoy!" Harry responded and took off himself. "And put your wand away!" It was bad enough to go to Pomfrey, but if Ron found out that he was cursed during the flight that he warned Harry against, Harry knew there would be no getting rid of him. Or Hermione.

The wind that roared past his ears as he swooped downwards in search of the glittering ball prevented him from hearing whatever oath Draco had chosen to mutter. However, the accompanying rush of air beside him was unmistakable as Draco set chase to the Snitch as well. Harry slowed down slightly so they could fly along side one another.

It was with practiced ease in which they slipped into the ebb and flow of the game; they dove and dived, twisting and turning through the air, only half focused on catching the Snitch. The times flying with Draco –without the pressure of an actual game– were the most freeing Harry had felt in a long time.

As they wove alternately though the stands, Harry caught sight of a glint of gold in the center of the pitch. With a great woop, he sped off towards it, leaving Draco behind. By the time he had realized what had happened, it was too late; Harry was too close to the Snitch as it was, his fingers curling around the ball as Draco drew level once more.

Despite everything, Draco was always sour whenever he lost. He shot a dirty glance at Harry before he shot off in a return to the ground.

"Aw, come on Malfoy! You won yesterday's match!" Harry exclaimed as he landed.

Draco just fumed silently, stomping his way over to the changing rooms. "It would be more interesting if we could use our wands. It's not a real match anyways."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "You fight dirty."

"So? It keeps you on your toes."

"I don't think I need anything else to keep me on my toes," Harry said dryly. Draco grunted in reply and yanked the door to the changing rooms open. He leaned his broom against a row of lockers before he stalked off to the showers, pulling his clothes off and leaving them in piles behind him. Harry followed at a leisurely pace, shaking his head before he disrobed and joined Draco in the showers.

The steam that filled the enclosed space made wearing his glasses a moot point, so he laid them of the shelf as he stepped under the spray of the shower next to Draco. He was halfway through washing his hair before he felt the hands tracing the rivulets of water on the small of his back. Despite the warmth of the water, he shivered at the touch.

Draco stepped up behind him, mouthing his neck. "So long as I get something out of it, I suppose I can let you win every now and then."

Harry snorted. "Let me?"

Draco traced the trail of bubbles from the shampoo as Harry rinsed, following them over the bumps of his spine and stopping just shy of his arse. "Of course," Draco breathed, reaching around him for a bottle on the shelf. He slathered the contents over his hand, and resumed following the trail he had before.

"What kind of 'something' was it you were thinking you would get?" Harry asked.

"Hmm, I have a few ideas."

Harry arched backwards, shoving his rear out towards the questing hand. Draco was easily able to slip two fingers in Harry's relaxed state, the cool slickness of what he supposed was shampoo making the journey smoother. "I think... it might be the other way around though," Harry panted, "it would be _me_ who let you win."

Draco purred, the vibrations transferring between them as he leaned against Harry, pressing him against the tiles. "Don't be foolish, Potter." Withdrawing his fingers, he coated himself in the remaining product from his hand and began to gradually ease in. Steadying himself on the wall with one hand, Harry reached back to tangle his other in a bunch of wet platinum locks.

Draco's hands were on his hips, holding him steady as he began to thrust in earnest. His quiet groans were muffled as he traced the lines of water that decorated Harry's neck and shoulders. With a groan, Harry pulled Draco upwards, capturing his lips over his shoulder.

One of Draco's hands slid forwards to teasingly caress Harry's erection, the water making the movement slicker and drawing out a whimper. Draco bit Harry's lower lip, sucking it gently to ease the short burst of pain that pushed Harry over the edge. His whimper was drowned by the stream of water from the showers, his muscles clenching. Draco's movements became more erratic, his hands made their way back to Harry's hips, clutching him closer. He dropped his head against Harry's shoulder as he came in a series of bursts, trembling.

Harry relaxed against to cool tiles with a groan. "I think shower sex has moved to the top of my list right now," he said. Draco murmured his agreement, smoothing his hand down Harry's side over and over before he pulled away to clean himself up.

"I think I'll surprise you more often like this," Draco said thoughtfully. "It's easier to have my wicked way with you."

"Right," Harry replied, "I'll keep that in mind." He finished his shower at a leisurely pace, grabbing his glasses off of the shelf when finished. Wrapping himself in a towel, he headed back to the lockers to change into his school robes. Draco joined him a minute later, drying his hair with a quick charm and following Harry's lead in getting dressed.

The door burst open just as Harry had fastened the button on his trousers. Ron stood, gasping for breath as he leant heavily on the door frame. He looked as if he had dressed in ten seconds; his shirt was un-tucked and several buttons were in the wrong holes. His tie dangled from around his neck as he bent over to catch his breath. "H-Harry, I told- told you I wanted to come with you this morning! Why didn't you wait?"

Harry's eyes flickered over to where Draco stood partially clad, his hand fisted in his trousers as he prepared to pull them on. He hadn't moved since the door had opened. "Uh… Ron?"

Ron straightened and leveled a beseeching glance at Harry. "What if Crabbe and Goyle decided to attack? What if Malfoy-" It was at that moment that he spotted Draco, wearing only his pants and standing half a step away from Harry.

Ron seemed to fall into the room when he lost the support of the door frame. "Wha-" he stuttered. He regained some semblance of control and righted himself. The look he shot at Draco made it appear as though he thought that alone would be enough to get him to back away, or maybe just disappear. "Harry?" he asked, still not looking away from Draco.

"Yes?" Harry responded hesitantly.

"What is _he_ doing here?"

Harry looked over his shoulder at Draco once more, gnawing gently on his lower lip in agitation. Having recovered, Draco was standing at his full height and refusing to look away from Ron, his state of undress overlooked for the time being.

"Well," Harry began, rather hesitantly, "we… fly together. It's good practice really, seeing as we're both Seekers and on opposing teams and all so the competitiveness is there already. But we don't really ha- ah, umm… now that we've been, well…" He twisted the fabric of his shirt in his hands awkwardly, not knowing what to say or how to explain it.

"We're intimate," Draco shot, never one for dancing around the fact.

Ron didn't seem to hear at first. "Excuse me?" He jabbed a finger in his ear and twisted. "With Malfoy, Harry?" he asked incredulously. When Harry didn't deny anything, Ron sagged, a disgusted look clouding his features. "What do you mean, 'intimate'?"

Draco grimaced. "Don't make me go into specifics, Weasley. I don't think your poor stomach could take it, and I'd rather not spend the rest of my morning hauling you up to the Hospital Wing."

Full realization seemed to dawn on Ron as surly as the rising sun. "Hermione warned me about something like this, but I didn't believe her," he gapped, shooting glances between a nervous Harry and self-assured Draco. "I mean, how can this even be possible?"

Draco huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, looking perfectly at ease in his near naked state. "Well you better believe it now, Weasley. And you needn't accompany any more flying sessions."

Ron threw him a dirty glare. "And if I do?"

"You don't get to shower."

Harry flushed as the memories of ten minutes ago flashed through his mind; Ron paled at the hidden implications, making his freckles stand out. "Wouldn't dream of it," he just managed to get out. Satisfied, Draco turned away and resumed pulling his clothes on, ignoring Ron completely.

"I don't like him, and I don't get why you're in this Harry," Ron made his displeasure about this situation very clear, pointedly avoiding looking at Draco any more than he had to. "But seeing as it's you, and doing the impossible seems to be your specialty…" he huffed, and with a shrug of his shoulders, continued, "Still, it's better than Goyle. I'd continue watch out for him though. Those shifty glances made it look like he was going to attack you." Ron sidled closer to Harry and whispered conspiratorially, "I think he's got it in for you, mate."

"Goyle _has_ been acting rather odd lately," Draco inputted. "Been asking a lot of questions since that time you came down. Not even he is dense enough to not be able to put two and two together though," he smoothed his hands over his shirt to disperse the wrinkles and looked up at Harry with mock horror. "Good god, if Goyle can figure it out, it won't be long before the entire school knows."

Harry's brow furrowed, concerned. "Well, it would have happened eventually, wouldn't it? I mean, it's not something that should be really kept quiet, is it?"

Draco leveled a look at him as he smoothed his hair back, a faint smile forming. "No, I suppose not."

Ron's face twisted up. "He's not going to start eating at our table, is he?"

Draco chuckled, surprising Harry who was sure he was going to rage. "Weasley, if I had to spend my breakfasts with you, I wouldn't be eating."

"Fine," Ron shot back. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going off to breakfast before you can manage to ruin my day anymore, Malfoy. I'll see you later, Harry." And he strode out of the room, his brief -if slightly forced- smile at Harry making him think that maybe Ron's handling of the situation was better than he thought it would have been.

*~O~*~O~*

"Potter."

Harry rolled over, mumbling in his half-asleep state. His eyelids fluttered open and he groggily registered that there was someone sitting on the edge of his bed. His eyes widened, and he rubbed the sleep from them.

"How did you get in here?" he muttered quietly.

Draco smirked. "Longbottom was very forthcoming about the password with the right persuasion. And so long as you're wearing Gryffindor colours, the Fat Lady doesn't look carefully to see if you actually belong to this house this late. The security here is horrendous."

Harry stifled a yawn. "So that's where my extra robe disappeared to. I'll be needing that back, you know."

Draco's smirk widened. "Make me give it back."

Harry chuckled and pushed the covers back enough to sit up. "So, now that we're in _my_ dormitory, does that mean _I_ get to have my wicked way with you?"

Draco looked affronted. "Absolutely not! Seeing as how I was able to sneak in here without turning myself invisible –and thereby, _cheating_– I think I deserve a bit of a reward, don't you? Besides, I'm also a Slytherin, and far more devious than you could ever hope to become." He than proceeded to climb onto the bed, pushing Harry back into the pillows as he covered his body with his own from shoulder to knee, grinding his hips against the bed covers that had pooled there.

"It- it's more effective if you're _under_ the covers, Draco," Harry groaned, his hands rising to curl around Draco's shoulders. Involuntarily, his hips rose to match Draco's rhythm.

Draco grunted. His response was muffled against Harry's throat. "Who says this isn't effective?"

"True," Harry ceded, and gasped as Draco bit down on the juncture of his shoulder and neck.

Together, they rushed towards completion, sharing fevered kisses, panting and groaning quietly. Hands slid through soft hair, wormed their way in between the layers of cloth and fought with blankets to find purchase on patches of skin that was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Draco swallowed the groan Harry made as he rocked upwards in increasing frenzy, before he slumped down into the cushioning of the mattress, sated. Draco whimpered when he came, collapsing on top of Harry.

Gently, Harry rolled as he dislodged Draco and reached over him for his wand to clean up the cooling mess between them. Replacing it back on the bedside table, he settled himself back into the comfort of the bed. "Are you planning on staying?" he asked, his arm still draped casually over Draco.

"Nah. Weasley would have a heart attack if he saw me in the morning." He was silent of a while as he thought before he moved to grasp the edge of the blanket and yank it over them. "On second thought, that sounds like a good idea."

Harry swatted his arm playfully. "You'll not be giving my friends heart attacks."

"So long as you can stay invisible when you infiltrate my dorm."

"Agreed."

~FIN~


End file.
